


a nightcap

by stephenssupreme



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Not Innocent (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Hand Jobs, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-08-20 04:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20222020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephenssupreme/pseuds/stephenssupreme
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley decided to explore their unspoken thing





	1. Chapter 1

Ever since Non-Armageddon came and went, Aziraphale and Crowley had been spending much more time around each other. In the past, there had usually been years between their meetings, occasionally pushing the odd century here and there. That wasn't the case in the present day, however. Far from it. In fact, if a single day went by without an interaction, either side of the party would begin to worry. To combat this, they had an unspoken agreement that there would be a phone call that evening to see how the other was doing. Most conversations consisted of Aziraphale complaining about a customer he had that day and then asking Crowley for a music recommendation. This was a new happening and one that still, to this day, took Crowley by surprise. He didn't even know if his angel took his recommendations seriously and listened to them, either way he loyally gave him a song every time. His favourites, of course. Lover Boy by Queen was the first one he ever told Aziraphale about and the silence on the other end made Crowley tense. Perhaps that was pushing it too far. He had toned it down since then. Well, up until Aziraphale decides to change things up a little…

"- and you know me, Crowley, I would rather be royally discorporated than turn over my first edition Wilde collection. Good riddance to that customer, I tell you!" The angel could be heard tutting on the other end of the line.

"How  _ rude _ of them to enquire about products in a  _ shop _ ," dwalled the demon, smiling stupidly to himself as he kicked his legs up on the desk in front of him, crossing one over the other. He was waiting for the words 'if only I had a song to take my mind off things'. Though he was surprised when that wasn't what came through the phone.

"Hm. Yes… No! I hear your sarcasm, you wiley snake!" 

G--.  _ Satan _ , Crowley could practically feel Aziraphale wagging his finger at him.

"Anyway, enough of that… I actually phoned you to ask if you were free this evening?"

The demon hummed, pretending to think about that proposition. Of course he was free, he had nothing better to do and he vowed to himself, if his angel ever wanted to see him, he would  _ make _ himself free. That being said, he refused to let Aziraphale know that. "Hm. I guess so. I could cancel that… Uh, thing I had."

"Oh my, if you're busy it really doesn't matter, I wouldn't want to trouble you-"

"I'm not!"

"But you  _ just _ said-"

"I'm free, angel. Shut it. Anyways, why are you asking?"

"I was wondering if you fancied popping by the shop for a nightcap… And, if you're up for it, you could bring some of your music with you?" Little did the demon know, Aziraphale was trembling as he suggested this, nervous that the answer would be 'no'.

"I don't have to  _ bring it with me _ , you know. There's things like YouTube know. Spotify…"

"I don't want spots. I know personal computers are susceptible to viruses, in turn I'm assuming 'spots'." It was true, Aziraphale had no idea what Spotify was but he did in fact know what YouTube was - where else would he find the perfect tutorial on how to clean cocoa stains out of linen trousers?

" _ Oh angel… _ " Sighed Crowley, running a hand through his hair as he got up from his chair. "You really are one of a kind. I'll be over in five."

"But it takes ten minutes to drive here from your flat?"

"Exactly. I'll be there in five."

  
  


*****

Five minutes came and went: Aziraphale had been counting down every second in anticipation. As the clock struck six minutes exactly, the shop door swung open - a little miracle in place which allowed only two individuals to pass through that door when it was locked. Crowley and Aziraphale, respectively.

"Honey, I'm  _ hoOome! _ " Sung the demon as he waltzed his way through, sarcasm dripping off every syllable that left his serpentine tongue.

"I'm out the back, dear!" Aziraphale called through domestically, his own words not sarcastic in the slightest, in fact, he could have gotten used to Crowley saying those words. Simply hearing his voice put the angel at ease, composure finally returning to him, any evidence of nerves simply banished away. At least for now.

Swooping around the corner, Crowley stopped in the doorway, tilting his head to the side. It still took him by surprise whenever he saw Aziraphale in something other than his neutral coloured suit. Granted, the angel was still dressed for too smartly for a cosy night, but it was still a sight for the demon to behold.

He was wearing a soft looking, beige crew-neck jumper over his usual blue shirt, though there was the noticeable absence of his beautiful tartan bowtie - instead a few buttons down from the collar were undone. That being said, there wasn’t a  _ lack  _ of tartan, Aziraphale’s socks making up for that in leaps and bounds. Stood by his desk, he was putting away his reading gloves as Crowley walked in.

“I can feel you staring…” Groaned the angel as he turned around, yanking down on the sleeve of his jumper out of habit. “It doesn’t suit me, does it? Anathema advised that I experimented a little with my so-called ‘look’, I knew this was too adventurous-”

“Woah, no way, Angel!” Crowley held his hands out in front of him, stopping the other man from talking. “You look… Soft.” Unfortunately, the serpent was annoyingly unaware of the implications of that specific word. Soft. Aziraphale had always been told he was  _ too _ soft. A frown tugged momentarily at the poor angel’s lips but he tried to look away as soon as he felt it happening. He couldn’t let Crowley know.

“U-uh… So. Did you bring your bebop?” he asked, changing the subject as quickly as he could and thank god it worked because he could  _ feel _ the demon rolling his eyes from behind those shaded glasses.

“For the last time, Aziraphale - nobody would ever call my taste in music  _ bebop _ ! But yeah, I did.” Moving out from the doorway, he pulled his phone from his jean pocket with a certain amount of struggling. His fault for wearing such tight fitting clothing.  _ A demon who tortures himself, how poetic _ he often thought to himself. “S’all on here. Spotify. Don’t worry, won’t harm a single feather on those pristine wings of yours.” He laughed to himself, like he often did at his own jokes, pleased when he saw Aziraphale smiling out of the corner of his eye. Things were okay.

“I trust you’re an expert on these modern technologies?”

“Far from it, actually. I miss my nokia.”

“Your what?”

“Don’t worry yourself, angel. You got the drink you promised?” He began to scroll through his premeditated playlist which was simply named ‘Him.’.

Meanwhile Aziraphale crouched down by his wine wrack, running his fingertips over the bottles as he mulled over the options. A white was tempting but it didn’t actually scream romance. Rose was also a little too tame, he thought. Who was he kidding? Red was the only option and a vintage one at that. He poured a glass for them both, handing Crowley’s over with a smile, their fingers brushing lightly against each other as it happened. Small touches like this never failed to make their hearts race. Did they ever tell each other this though? Of course not. They simply blushed respectfully and pretended as though it never happened.

They ended up side by side on the sofa as the first song began to play, Crowley leaving his phone face down on the desk in front of them. Smalltown Boy by Bronski Beat began to fill the room, Aziraphale instantly tapping his foot to the captivating beat, Crowley closing his eyes as he listened to the words.

_ Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away. _

It was a song that oddly resonated with him and he couldn’t exactly explain why. Perhaps it was because he was constantly running away from hell yet always failing to do so. Perhaps it was because he felt as though God never accepted him. It was an odd dilemma. One that could be temporarily healed with wine, however, and he did just that, downing the glass he had been given in one go. A click of his fingers caused the wine bottle to appear in his empty hand and he poured himself another.

“Top up?” he asked, turning his head to Aziraphale who still had an almost full glass. “Oh, uh nevermind.”

“Do you think I can’t keep up with a demon? Heavens forgive me but I refuse to let you plow on ahead like that, dear.” Sitting up straight, the angel measuredly drank the rest of his glass, liking the bitter substance off his lips once he was done.

Oh his lips…

Crowley often thought of those… Kissing him there… Watching those soft lips wrap around his cock in the dead of night. Fantasies, of course. Ones the demon desperately cast out his mind while he was sat behind the very man in question.

“Chop chop, darling, we don’t have all day.” Aziraphale waggled his glass expectantly.

“Actually, we have the rest of time itself,” corrected the demon as he poured out another two glasses for them.

Considering that, Aziraphale took another sip, nodding to himself yet his face had an expression of mild disagreement. “You’re right, Crowley. But recently I have been rather attracted to the idea of living every moment as if it were my last. All of my existence I have been taking things slow because immortally cannot be rushed. Yet, after Armageddon, every moment seems to be so precious in my lifetime and I’d hate to think I’m wasting any second of it. A fool, I may be… but I try to avoid it if I can.”

“If you’re a fool, Angel - I’m a qualified royal jester. Fuck.” Scoffing, Crowley slapped his hand down on his companion’s thigh, not thinking twice about it. Well, until he felt Aziraphale’s hand slip on top of his own, keeping him there.

“Crowley, I’m trying to tell you that I-”

He was cut off by the song changing, Let’s Dance by David Bowie a quick change of pace from the song beforehand. As much as crowley loved a bit of Bowie now and then he pulled his hand swiftly away from Aziraphale’s but only so he could grab his phone and press pause. He  _ needed _ to hear what Aziraphale had to say. It was as if his life depended on it.

“Yes, Angel?” Oh how it sounded that Crowley was pleading for an answer. 

The silence struck Aziraphale though, clammy palms now clutched onto the wine glass that rested on his thighs. “Well… Perhaps I’m ready to go a little faster. Frankly, I think I was always prioritising Heaven’s opinions above my own and I hate to say it but I’ve always been ashamed of myself in that respect.”

“What the  _ hell _ are you on about?”

“Hm. Maybe I should show you? Words quite often fail to express the true depth of one’s emotions, my dear.” Every word Aziraphale said went through one ear and out the other with Crowley and not in a rude way, not at all. He simply couldn’t take his eyes off Heaven’s finest principality, lost in his ethereal beauty. “Take those ghastly sunglasses off though. You know you don’t have to keep them on around me.” Reaching over, Aziraphale gently plucked the glasses away from the demon’s face, sighing with content as he caught a glimpse of those serpent eyes. He had always loved those.

"I've always kinda liked your words though. Like, the way you say things is…" Crowley was trying to compose a sentence and clearly wasn't doing too well at that, a mess of sounds drawling into a mumbling of nothings after not too long.

"Shh… I want everything to go to plan. I planned this." He wasn't supposed to let the demon know that but it was too late by this point. Now or never. Do or die, as they say. Deciding he had to do what had to be done, he swiftly placed his wine glass on the side.

Aziraphale had kissed people before, in fact he was quite the prolific kisser among certain circles of nobility in twentieth century britain. He enjoyed the thrill of it. The touch of another man was something he had always treasured but it was never  _ his  _ man. Even when he tried to forget about the demon he was cursed to thwart, Crowley always made his way into Aziraphale's thoughts in the most intimate of times. In the end he grew to accept that, in fact he fueled himself off it really. It was freeing to act as he pleased, keeping that beautiful face of a demon in his mind as he did them. 

Now, however, he could bring those dreams into reality.

Slipping a hand up round the back of Crowley's neck, he let his fingers nestle in his red hair, lingering for a moment as he gently combed through it. It visibly softened Crowley, his eyes closing as his body relaxed. As a demon he was regrettably touch starved so even something like this meant the world to him. Sparing little time, the angel took things further, leaning in to gently press a kiss against his cheek at first, testing the waters.

"Angel…" Whispered Crowley, making no attempt to push him away.

Good.

He then tried his luck by moving his next kiss to the other's lips, the taste of french wine still clinging to them both. Intoxicating was one word you could use to describe it. Liberating was another.

Returning the soft, elegant kiss, Crowley grasped onto Aziraphale's thigh one more, fingers splayed as he squeezed him here. He was rather needy for a demon - he wanted his hands everywhere and anywhere on Aziraphale. In fact, his 'true' demonic form could do just that but to burst out your eternal flames look in the middle of making out, well… It could regrettably kill the mood. Instead Crowley would cope with the four limbs he was currently occupying - pulling himself over to sit on the angel's lap, breaking the kiss as he did so. He felt a hand reach for his cheek, Aziraphale gently stroking his cool skin.

"Ah, you pretty boy…" He had muttered, gazing in awe at the man sat upon him. A sound, incomprehensible to be considered a word, ecaspaed the demon's lips, a mumble of everything he wanted to say and yet not getting a single thing out. "Pretty, gorgeous boy…" He pulled him in for a kiss once more, smiling against his lips.

It was something about being called a pet name that got Crowley going. He had always called Aziraphale his Angel but he wasn't used to getting anything along those lines given back to him. It drove him crazy. His cock was tight against his jeans as it was, now strained against the material as he rolled his hips forward, grinding slowly against his ineffable companion who himself was simply running his hands up the back of Crowley's shirt. Making out was all well and good but every touch Aziraphale made caused Crowley's raging boner just get worse. He had no idea he would be this easy - granted all his past encounters with people had been quick romps in the dark but that didn't stop him from being shocked.

"Aziraphale…" He gasped softly, pulling away from him, leaning back a little, one arm hanging down beside himself, the other holding onto the man's shoulder. If it wasn't for Aziraphale's creeping hands, he would have most definitely fallen backwards. "I think I may be madly, deep in l-"

"I love you, too." The angel had wanted to say that for so long - it hit him in the 1940s but deep down he believed he had been in love with the demon for several millennia. So in love that as soon as the time had come, he practically blurted it out too soon.

"Hhh, I wanted to say it first," Crowley groaned, using his free hand to adjust himself, hardly discreet about it seeing as his bulge had just been pressed up against his angel's stomach.

"I think you already did," pointed out Aziraphale, laughing quietly to himself , eyes darting down at Crowley's lap. Oh the things he wanted to do. The things he  _ could _ do. There was nothing stopping him now and all it took was a little push. "Just a suggestion, my fickle little fiend… Perhaps you ought to get your clothes off? I've heard that helps in situations like this." He lifted his finger to run it against Crowley's chest, humming as he touched the small wisps of hair there.

"S-shit. You're right." Crowley shifted a little so he was more stable, shrugging his jacket off to drop it behind him on the floor along with his necktie.

"Excuse me. Language." It was more of an instinctive jab from the angel, to be truthful.

"You literally just asked me to take my clothes off, angel," replied Crowley, pausing to pull his shirt over his head, a silver chain dropping against his bare chest, a ring hanging from the bottom of it. "I really don't think my bad language is the most sinful thing to happen in this backroom."

With a wink he climbed off Aziraphale's lap, unbuckling his belt as he looked right at him, putting on his own little show of sorts. Aziraphale didn't know why but he had been expecting black underwear to match the rest of his usual outfit, instead he was met with a deep red pair that clung to the demon in such a beautiful way.

"Eyes up here, angel." Stepping out his jeans, Crowley grinned, a flash off his serpentine tongue appearing from between his teeth. A numbing blush spread across Aziraphale's plush cheeks, though he couldn't force himself to look his demon in the eye. Not yet. 

"It's been too long since I've seen this much of you…"

"God - pardon that word - forbid humans invented clothes," Crowley joked, sauntering his way back over, pressing his knee against Aziraphale's crotch, still yearning for some eye contact from the splendid being.

"Uh- Let's focus on you for now. Pressing matters and all that." Gripping onto his hips, Aziraphale pulled Crowley back down onto his lap, wasting no time this time around - his right hand slipping under the elastic of the other's boxer briefs. "Ah…" His fingers wrapped around Crowley's cock, the golden ring on his pinky finger cold to the touch and oh how it made the demon ache for more. Coaxing his length out from the briefs, Aziraphale finally let his eyes trail back up to Crowley's. He just caught him as he closed them, the bright yellow irises hiding away as the man let out a soft moan, jaw dropping slightly. Heaven's perfect principality decided he could look at this for the rest of his life.

It had started off with slow strokes, Aziraphale leaning in to press occasional kisses against Crowley's neck, whispering to him about all the times he realised he loved the man.

"Paris, 1793… The way you saved me, looking so suave…"

There was a moan in response, Crowley's breath hitching as he bucked his hips up. He wanted to hear more.

"Rome, 41 AD… I had never been more glad to see such a man… We drank for hours that night…"

Grasping onto the angel's hair, Crowley groaned, pulling at it slightly. More. He wanted more.

"Golgotha… It was such a sad day but seeing you… Your braided hair… She was the apple of my eye."

Aziraphale remembered? He acknowledged when Crowley presented as female and saw no fault in that? Go- No,  _ Satan _ , how had this demon struck it so lucky?

The angel's hands were a charm, his thumb rubbing circles on the tip of his cock, teasing him and with utter content. It made the demon sweat, struggling for breath as he panted through his pleasure.

"Angel.  _ Aziraphale… _ I'm going to- Uh, fuck!" Just as he felt himself hit his climax, his body surprised himself in a way he could never have imagined. A pair of pitch black wings burst from his bare back, crashing into the bookshelves either side of them, objects crashing to the ground.

"Crowley!" Gasped the angel, pulling back to stare in awe of the spectacle before him. He never really had the chance to admire his wings up close before and their beauty was something that simply couldn't be denied. They were slik, cared for and… Soft. They were soft to the touch. Aziraphale couldn't help but reach out and brush his hand against them, groaning when he realised he should have at least wipe his sticky hand first. A miracle could fix that later, though. All that was on his mind right now was how breathtaking Crowley looked, his chest rising and falling as he panted exhaustedly. 

"S-sorry…" He muttered, half opening his eyes, the yellows of them glittering in the dim light. Glancing to the side, he blushed embarrassingly at the sight of his wings, delicate feathers molting off to land on the carpet.

"No, no… They're lovely, my dear."

"I… Also meant, uh." He cleared his throat, gesturing at Aziraphale's once spotless jumper. "That."

"How naughty of you." Frowning, Aziraphale instantly pulled the jumper over his head, laying it over the armrest with a little distaste. "You'll be miracle-ing that away later, I hope you know that."

Crowley nodded, his wings slowly shrinking away as the ecstasy wore off. Who knew sex with an angel had such odd side effects. "Let me make it up to you." He stuck out his tongue, thin and forked at the end. The things he could do with that tongue of his.

"Oh my… You don't have to-" Aziraphale tried to refuse but he was also ever so curious.

"It's what you deserve, oh holy principality of the eastern gate."

"Hm… If you insist."

  
  


END OF PART 1


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is shorter (simply because less plot build up etc) but enjoy some blushing aziraphale !!

Crowley was eager to help his angel get undressed, fingers undoing every button of Aziraphale's shirt as quickly as he could. An inhuman sound left the man as he laid eyes upon the soft, white chest hair which peeked out after just a few loosened buttons. A flash of embarrassment struck Aziraphale's face: was it bad? He couldn't tell by that sound, oh no… What if he didn't like it? As he went to do his shirt back up though, he was caught off guard by Crowley grabbing hold of either side of the opened shirt and yanking it apart, ripping it open with a few plastic buttons flying off in different directions.

"Fuck…" Muttered Crowley, his heart racing once again. He was so entranced that he didn't even clock the unfortunate pout on his angel's face.

"That was my best shirt… Crowley, I liked that shirt. Crowley? Crowley!" Only on the third call of his name did the demon glance up.

"Hmph. Yeah. I'll buy you a new one." There was no care in his voice really, in fact, he was so careless he let his eyes wander down to his lover's body once more.

"Well I would  _ hope so _ . You have no idea how long I've kept that shirt in good order. I believe I've had it since--  _ Oh… _ " Suddenly that story didn't matter anymore, Aziraphale cut off as Crowley buried his face in the hair, his hands grabbing at his chest. A flicker of a serpentine tongue was felt across his nipple which in all manner of (not) speaking, rendered the angel speechless.

Pushing the remainder of the shirt down his arms, Crowley backed off for a moment, just so they could get it off properly. He couldn't take his eyes off him, not for a second. Infatuated didn't even cover it. All he wanted was for the angel to do the most unholiest of things to him and to hold him close after. Yes. He wanted to be held.

Something a lot different was going through Aziraphale's mind, however. He never was one of the strapping fit angels, he didn't think he had the amount of perfection an angel should, in theory, have. Of course he never spoke about it but deep down he always wished he was a little less…  _ Soft _ . Some muscle here and there would be good, right? That would impress Gabriel for sure. That was the problem… Aziraphale simply didn't feel  **impressive ** enough for Crowley. He couldn't help it but whisper the word: "sorry."

Puzzled, Crowley raised a brow. "Sorry for what?"

"Oh-Uh… I wasn't supposed to say that out loud. I just… Oh my, this is rather foolish of me, is it not? You see, I just worry that I don't live up to your standards and-" Once again the angel stopped in his tracks. He had been nervously scratching his hand as he spoke, arms close to his body to subconsciously hide a little bit. What shocked him was having Crowley put his own hands on his, pushing them apart so he could hold them.

"You've got nothing to worry about, angel." And with that, he guided him to lay down on the sofa, he himself climbing on top of him, a kiss pressing against the angel's neck. "If anything, you'll always exceed my standards." He couldn't help but suck at the skin he had kissed, his sharp teeth only grazing against him - he was horny but he didn't want to cause the man pain, at least not without asking. The demon only pulled back when he heard… Was that… A moan? From the angel. To his ears it sounded heavenly, something he could certainly get used to and eager cause again. Snaking down his body, Crowley pressed kisses against him as he went, his hands grabbing at whatever part of his body he could. His chest, his waist, his tummy - he could not hold back. "May I?" He asked as he reached his trousers, fingers tenderly feeling the fabric beneath them.

"Y-yes."

With the greenlight given, Crowley hastily undid the trousers, pulling them down the angel's thighs and eventually off him altogether. White briefs. Not a surprise but oh did Aziraphale look ravishing like that. Sliding his fingers under the waistband, Crowley gave a sly grin, his sharp, demonic teeth peeking through. Normally Crowley would click his fingers to add a dramatic flare to his miracles but in this instance he simply flashed a wink, the briefs gone in an instant.

"O-oh, now dear… There was no need for laziness," teased Aziraphale, blushing as he was now fully exposed to the other man.

"Hm, you liked it really," Crowley groaned, sinking down between his angel's thighs, his tongue flickering out once more to patter against the soft skin there.

"Perhaps." Was his shy reply.

"Naughty little cherub, aren't you?" Oh, now perhaps that was taking things too far because before he knew it, he felt Aziraphale's hand sweep into his hair, grabbing onto him to push him down further. He knew what he wanted him to do. His tongue lashed against the angel’s already wet pussy, a shaky sigh leaving Crowley as he fully realised what he was doing. This was no longer simply a harmless daydream - this was real and it was amazing. Wrapping his surprisingly strong, thin tongue around Aziraphale’s clit, he essentially jerked him off, breathing hot breath against him. Sparing a glance across the angel’s body, Crowley’s watched as his companion rolled his head back in pleasure, a hand squeezing at his own chest, mouth slightly agape.  _ Beautiful _ \- he thought to himself. 

He must have stopped momentarily or something since out of nowhere he could feel Azirpahale yanking at his hair again. A whimper left Crowley, finding that he was quite into the whole hair pulling thing.

“Never realised angels were this needy…” He grumbled, mainly to himself but nonetheless, he got a reply back.

“Only this angel,” confirmed Aziraphale, sitting up ever so slightly, propped up on his elbow. “I do believe if I were a demon, I’d be one of greed… When I want something, ah, how I never give up…” They both flashed amused grins at the same time, Crowley dipping back down, eager to get back to eating out his splendid angel. He hooked the other man’s thighs over his shoulders, trying not to make a sound as he felt his thighs against his own bare skin. Fuck Heaven. Fuck hell. This was where Crowley wanted to be for the rest of eternity.

Soon enough Crowley was also using his fingers to fuck his angel, biting at his thigh as he did so. Aziraphale would only squirm and moan, losing any kind of control he had in this situation. He was at the demon’s complete mercy and nothing had ever felt better.

“Crowley!” Gasped the blonde, his hand grabbing onto the sofa beneath him, fingertips bright red due to how hard his grip was. He was so close… But he wanted it to be perfect. Perhaps it wasn’t greed that the angel possessed, but simply a perfectionist attitude that he abode by at all times. “K-keep using your hand but…” He couldn’t say it all at once, panting for panting for breath, his body sweating in places he didn’t realise he sweated. “Come here, dear boy.” He waited until Crowley looked over at him before patting his chest, welcoming him back up. He wanted to hold him and fittingly, Crowley wanted to be held. Getting out from under Aziraphale’s legs, Crowley clambered back up to drape himself over his almost spent angel, one hand staying between his thighs, rubbing intently at his clit.

Hands wandered up and down crowley’s slim figure as the breathlessly angel wriggled beneath him. Just as he pushed a finger back into the man once more, he felt Aziraphale climax, his body trembling, fingers digging into his skin. “ _ Crowley... _ ” Whispered Aziraphale, his eyes shut as he felt waves of ecstasy pulse through his whole body. He went light headed for a moment but as he came back to reality, the sight of Crowley gently sucking his own fingers clean just made Aziraphale a trembling mess once more, lifting one of his hands up to hide his face. 

It was London 1941 that Aziraphale first realised he loved this fiend. It was London 2019 that Aziraphale realised he would  _ never  _ be able to resist temptation again. 

Dropping his hand away, there was a pleasant smile reigning the plush lips of Aziraphale. So inviting…

“May I?” Asked Crowley, clearly glancing at his lover’s lips before his yellow, serpentine eyes matched the angel’s once more.

“ _ Always.  _ You are  _ always  _ welcome.” That was all the confirmation needed, Crowley shifting up further so he could sloppily kiss Aziraphale, no longer carrying how ‘well’ he was doing things. Weirdly, he just knew everything he tried with the angel now would be  _ right _ . Comfort. That was it.

  
They were comfortable there. Just the two of them. No more jealousy from the demon and no more fear from the angel. Like they said: they were on their own side now and this was one  _ hell _ of a side to be on.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be one part but alas.... my pwp came out with more plot than i wanted 🤧


End file.
